Moments in Time
by wolfmusic218
Summary: Just some drabbles (or short one-shots) covering different moments in the lives of my fave couple. Some good, some bad, some sexy, some funny. All will be Careese because that's how I roll.
1. Chapter 1

"She's literally driving me up a wall. I had to climb up one yesterday to get out of her way."

Carter sat across from Reese at their usual spot, trying her absolute best to not snicker into her coffee. John Reese was normally a man of very few words but lately, thanks to his association with Sam Shaw, he'd taken to using her as a sounding board, complaining about Shaw's tactics, her lack of impulse control, her aim. It wasn't that her aim was bad. On the contrary, it was amazing. Better than his...and it was rankling him. And amusing Carter to no end. It was so unlike him to let something like this get to him.

"John..."

"I hadn't even caught up to her and she had all three of them on their knees, hands behind their heads. I think one of them wet himself. She's scary, Joss." He fiddled with the utensils sitting next to his hand and shook his head.

"Is she? Sounds..._efficient_...to me." She sipped her coffee and peered up at him over the rim of the mug. "Sounds like a good addition. At least no one ended up in the hospital this time."

He stopped and looked at her, squinting. "You're enjoying this."

She shrugged, a ghost of a smile turning her lips up.

He sighed and lifted his coffee to his mouth. "So you women really do stick together."

Before she could say anything in response, her phone rang. Reese listened as she talked to her partner. Her face turned serious as she talked and Reese knew she would be leaving when she was done.

She stood and put her phone in her jacket. "I have to go." She rested her hand on his shoulder.

Covering hers with his, Reese looked up at her, his eyes soft. "I heard. Will I see you later?"

She glanced around the diner making sure no one was paying attention. She leaned down and turned his head towards her, kissing him gently. "You will. Stay out of trouble."

"You too. Be safe." He let go of her hand reluctantly.

She couldn't resist one last dig even though she really did try. "Just so you know, It's not that we stick together; it's just funny seeing _you_ trying to rein someone in for a change. I'll be interested to see if it works out as well for you as it did for me."

He chuckled. "It better not or I'll have a very pissed off woman at home to deal with."

She smiled as she ran her hand over her gun. "And don't you forget it, baby." She winked at him as she walked out.


	2. Fusco

"Damn it, Lionel, come on."

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

"Breathe, damn it. You're stronger than this."

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

He heard her running towards them, but he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop.

He didn't look at her. This whole thing was his fault and he wasn't going to give up until he either brought him back or the ambulance showed up and dragged him away.

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

The alley was muddy from the rain, the stench of rotting food, garbage, and God only knew what else invaded his nostrils, but all he could do was continue. His knees, already sore from the running, were digging into the concrete and the board Fusco was laying on.

He couldn't smell or feel any of it.

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

Between his teeth, Reese couldn't help but mutter, "What were you thinking?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter kneel next to him and grab Fusco's hand.

"John...what happened?"

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

"He thought he was invincible. Took a bullet for me."

_He was the braver of the two of them tonight, the idiot,_ Reese thought.

_one two three four five breathe_

In the distance, Reese could hear the siren of the ambulance, but he wasn't leaving.

"John, let me take over. You have to go."

"No."

"John. Go." She covered his hands and continued the compressions. "Now."

He looked up at her finally, seeing the tears building in her eyes, her fear for both him and for Lionel.

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

There was only one thing left to do.

Reese leaned down to the side of Fusco's head and took a deep breath. "Lionel, if you pull through this, I'll owe you a debt."

_one two three four five breathe_

_one two three four five breathe_

The gasp of air was music to Reese's ears.

He stood and took a last look at Carter, her eyes smiling up at him as he sent her one of his own, and he drifted into the shadows of the alley.


	3. First Kiss

It came out of no where.

There was nothing special about the moment at all.

It was dinner between friends on a couch in front of a television.

She laughed at something he said and he turned to look at her, a smile on his face. It hit him then. Oh, he'd had the feeling before, but this time...this time he couldn't think of one good reason why he shouldn't.

So he did.

Her eyes widened as he leaned in, but when they drifted to his lips and then closed when their lips met, he knew he'd chosen the right time.

It _was_ right.

It was _perfect_.

When he pulled back, he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and couldn't keep the smile from his face.

Neither of them said anything, but she surprised him like she often did when she leaned in and kissed him softly and whispered, "about time" as she teased his lips with her fingertips.


	4. Saturday Mornings

This was a drabble prompt posted by PiscesChikk. "Person A of your OTP finds out that person B still watches cartoons." Being a cartoon fan myself, I couldn't resist.

PC? Thanks for posting these. I think we've all had a lot of fun playing around with them.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Saturday mornings.<p>

He loved them.

When he wasn't working, he was up early, breakfast on the coffee table, TV on.

This Saturday morning was no different. It had been a long, rough night, but he wouldn't miss this. It had been a few weeks since he'd had a Saturday off so he'd set his alarm to be up in time.

Getting settled, he groaned out loud when a knock sounded at the door. Until he saw through the peephole who it was. Opening the door, he was greeted by the one person he absolutely did _not_ mind interrupting his Saturday morning ritual.

"Good morning, Detective." He was sure the surprise and delight showed in his eyes, but at the moment, he really didn't care. They'd gotten comfortable with this new, more friendly side to their relationship, but it was still unusual for her to show up unannounced.

She swept past him with a smile. "Good morning. Thought I'd come by and take you to breakfast."

"Oh. Well...I...um..."

He saw her face change the moment she saw his coffee table.

"Looks like you've already taken care of breakfast."

Coming up behind her, he looked over her shoulder, noting her attempt to hold in the giggle that was threatening. "You're welcome to join me."

Her hand swept over the spread on the table. "This is what ex-CIA operatives and present vigilante badasses eat for breakfast?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's Saturday." She only blinked at him and waited for him to continue, to explain.

It was a turning point, he realized. Could he trust her with his secret? He'd put the TV on mute when she'd knocked and it was turned so she couldn't see it from where she was standing. She had no idea.

"Joss. It's _Saturday_."

She shook her head and he grinned.

"OK, listen, if you're going to learn my deepest, darkest secret, you have to prepare yourself. Come with me." He held out his hand.

"John, what the hell are you talking about? What is the big deal about it being Saturday?"

She might have been confused, but he could tell that she was intrigued. Gripping her hand, he pulled her into the kitchen.

"Pull a bowl out of the cabinet to your right. I'll get the provisions you're going to need."

"Provisions? What the hell?"

He turned and held up a finger to quiet her. "It's all about the provisions, Joss. It's not the same without them."

He poured her a cup of coffee and put some bread in the toaster. "There's butter or jam in the fridge, get which ever you'd like. Or both. There's creamer too. Sugar is on top of the microwave."

"Why do you keep looking at the clock? Am I in the way? Expecting company?"

That stopped him cold. "Company?" He turned to her and stepped close, brushing his hand down her arm. "The only company I'd share this with is already here. No, I'm not expecting company. Now, we need two more things and we'll be ready."

He hadn't expected to admit that, not yet, but he'd let it sink in for her for a bit. He grabbed the milk from the fridge, stopping long enough to hand it to her and take a box from a cabinet.

"Sugar Puffs, John? _Really_?"

He shrugged. "They were out of Capt'n Crunch. C'mon." Both their hands full, he ushered her back into the living room with a thrust of his chin.

"So, what's with all the preparations?"

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and sat on the couch, patting the seat next to him. "You're about to find out. About to find out where I learned everything I know."

As she sat next to him, he clicked the sound back on. Her head whipped around when she heard the familiar "Beep, Beep" of the Roadrunner. She turned back to look at him, her eyes wide and shining with mirth.

"Cartoons? You learned everything from cartoons? You can't be serious." She couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her. Who would have _ever_ guessed?

"Oh, Joss. These are not just cartoons. These are Warner Brothers' cartoons. Looney Tunes. You just need to watch Wiley E. Coyote to learn persistence. Yosemite Sam to learn how to handle a firearm, Pepe Le Pew to learn how to handle women..." He waggled his eyebrows at her and scooped some cereal into his mouth. Waving the spoon in the air, he continued, "Marvin the Martian taught tactics, Bugs Bunny...leadership and negotiation."

She settled next to him, a huge grin splitting her face.

"What? You don't believe me?"

Laughing, she nudged him with her shoulder. "No, I actually _do_ believe you. How could you make something like that up? But I think I'm in shock."

Leaning forward, he poured some cereal and milk into a bowl and handed it to her. "Why?"

"Because honestly, I thought I knew you, but I realized that I don't. This proves it. Who would have guessed my Man in the Suit was a closet cartoon fan?"

He sat back, his smile mirroring hers. Nestling the bowl on his thighs, he patted her leg. "You do realize if you tell anyone, I'll deny it and you'll pay dearly, right?"

She leaned over and used her thumb to wipe some milk off of his lip. "No one would believe me anyway; your secret is safe with me, John. Now shut up and let's watch some cartoons, huh?"

The warmth of her touch still tingling on his skin, he turned the volume up. "Yes, ma'am."


	5. Control

Reese closed the door to his loft and leaned his back against it with a soft thud. His anger was played out. There was no one to be angry with but himself this time. He'd lost his cool. He'd lost his control. He'd done the one thing he'd told himself he wouldn't, couldn't, ever do.

Damn that woman! She seemed to know just what buttons to push and it was like she did it on purpose sometimes. She said wanted a reaction from him. She'd gotten one. He doubted it was the one she'd expected, though.

He couldn't even remember what they were fighting about. But she'd said _something_, looked at him just the right way, and he was lost. His vision had gone blurry and all he could see was her.

He'd gripped her shoulders, pressing her against the wall behind her. He'd never touched her in anger before. Hell, he could count on one hand the number of times he'd touched her _at all_. But this wasn't anger and she knew it. He saw it as her brown eyes widened and then dipped to his mouth.

One hand stayed on her shoulder, the other gripped her jaw under her chin, not very gently if he remembered correctly, and he'd kissed her. Pulled her to him and kissed her. Deeply and thoroughly. Again, not very gently.

He closed his eyes and fisted his hands as he remembered the feel of her lips on his. From the day they met he'd fought it, fought the desire he felt bubbling so closely to the surface. He obviously hadn't been able to control it as well as he'd thought.

She'd reached for him, her hands pulling on his arms - but not to push him away. The tiny part of his brain that was still functioning screamed at him to stop. It was wrong. It wouldn't work and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her more than he already had.

Finally taking a small step back, he'd heard her small mewl of protest, but he'd centered his focus, shook off his conscience. He'd whispered an apology and turned from her without looking back, every cell in his body telling him to turn back around.

So now here he was, _wanting_ to regret it, knowing she'd be furious with him. Whether for the kiss or walking away he wasn't sure, but she was going to be livid. He hated the idea of them being at odds again.

He pulled off his coat, threw it over the back of the couch, and turned to the kitchen. He needed a drink. Something strong. Something to dull the memory of how she'd felt against him.

The bottle of bourbon called to him like a siren song. As he uncapped it, the knock came.

_No. No...not yet…_

He reached for a glass and poured. Maybe she'd think he wasn't home.

_Coward. _

"Open the damn door, John." Or maybe she wouldn't.

And if he knew her like he thought he did, she'd stay out there all night.

He downed the shot of liquid courage and moved to the door, pressing his hand on it, his head bowed, taking a deep breath to collect his reserves for the fight ahead.

And then he heard it, soft and close.

"Please."

And again his control was lost.


	6. Lies

This was another of PiscesChikk's prompts: "After The Crossing, Carter tells Reese she doesn't think it's wise for them to pursue a relationship."

It's also the last of the drabbles I have in my folder. I plan on doing more (so many prompts, so little time!), it just might be a little longer between them. Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews for the others!

* * *

><p>Standing in the middle of her living room, Reese couldn't breathe.<p>

After everything. After the morgue and the kiss.

It all came down to the lies.

The ones she told herself and the ones she was telling him.

It couldn't work between them. Things were just too complicated.

He noticed she never said anything about how she felt.

But he wouldn't beg. He couldn't. But he could wait.

He nodded at her as she spoke, not really hearing what she said any more.

It was all white noise.

The tears in her eyes told a completely different story than the lies she was trying to make true.

Finally, he held up his hand to stop her and walked into her personal space.

He cupped her face and kissed her forehead, leaning his against hers.

He said nothing as he turned and walked towards the door. The only sound in the room, the breaking of his already fragile heart.

"John."

Hand on the doorknob, his back to her, he only paused. Waiting.

"I do love you."

The only truth in the sea of her lies.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know."

He closed the door gently behind him.


	7. Along Comes a Spider

**A/N:** This one was inspired by a prompt that **Fangirlu** posted on FB. So, this one is for her. :) No beta, so all mistakes are mine. And nope, i don't own POI or the characters therein. If I did...oh, the changes I would make and the things I'd make them do.

* * *

><p>Gun drawn, Carter moved along the hallway towards Reese's loft. The phone call she'd gotten from him, his voice pitched high and out of breath, had scared her. He never panicked. <em>Never.<em> She'd dropped what she'd been working on, made an excuse to Fusco, and bolted out of the precinct.

It had to be bad.

As she got closer, she heard banging and cursing from within the apartment. And then a crash of glass.

Quietly checking the doorknob, it turned easily and the door showed no signs of forced entry so either the perp had come in another way or Reese had known them.

She pushed open the door, gun raised. "NYPD, lemme see your hands!" she yelled.

The sight that greeted her as the door slammed against the wall behind it stopped her cold. And parts of her warmed with the immediate thought of "_Oh my God, look at him!" _She shook her head and tried to regain her focus.

Reese stood on the low coffee table - hair wet, barefoot, shirtless, and in suitpants that were unbuttoned. He'd obviously been surprised right after his shower. And he was holding a rolled up newspaper.

The man had a gun closet and he grabbed a newspaper? What the hell? They'd obviously gotten the jump on him in his own home.

She caught his eyes and saw his panic and fear. John Reese, scared?

Oh, this was _very_ bad.

"Where, John? Where are they?"

The whisper was loud enough to break through and a look of relief flooded his face. "The floor. On the floor, I think."

She came around the couch, crouched low, her gun raised so she could sight whoever was threatening him.

When she made it around...there was nothing. No perp, no body, no..._nothing. _

Now she was seriously confused.

Looking up at him, she raised her eyebrows in question. He only pointed with the newspaper, thrusting it in the direction of the floor. "On the floor, Joss."

He must have been dosed with something hallucinogenic because when she looked down again she still saw absolutely...wait...she squinted again and saw something. It looked like...

...a spider? A big one by the looks of it. _This_ was why he called her in a complete and utter panic? A damn spider?

She bit her bottom lip and did her best to not laugh out loud. In his face. Before she killed him herself for scaring the crap out of her.

"Do you see it? Joss, come on..."

If she didn't know better, she would have sworn that the voice that came out of him was a whine. But John Reese did not whine. Not about a spider. In his loft. And he didn't call her to come half way across town to kill it for him. He didn't. Because, if he did, they were never, _ever_, going to find his body.

"Joss..."

She caught his eye, lifted her brow and her foot, and stomped on the spider.

"Let me see."

Was he kidding?

"Are you kidding me?" She could not believe that this man, this badass, this vigilante, who'd seen several tours of duty in the military, who'd killed and maimed and tortured with the CIA, who had been nearly killed, maimed, and tortured himself, wanted to see the flattened body of the spider under her boot. Because he didn't believe it was dead.

She lifted her foot and, sure enough, there was a black splotch on the pristine dark hardwood of his floor. "Happy?"

Stepping down from the coffee table, he let out a breath. "You have no idea."

She took a good look at him. He was sweating. His breath was coming out in long drawn out pants. His fists were clenching and unclenching. He was scanning the floor like a man searching for a lost contact lens.

Her Man in a Suit was seriously arachnophobic.

She would have laughed if she didn't feel a little sorry for him. "Feel better?"

Throwing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, the blush colored his ears and cheeks and he turned and pulled her into a hug. "Yeah, thank you. I know this makes no sense, not really, but I can't help the reaction. I'm sorry for scaring you."

Oh, now, this was bad too. A half naked John Reese had his arms around her. Talk about not being able to control a reaction...

Feigning indifference she didn't feel, she looked up at him. "That's why it's called a phobia; it's not rational. But yeah, a little head's up would have been nice."

Moving to push away from him wasn't the smartest idea either, as her hands connected with his bare chest. And apparently, she couldn't seem to drag those hands off of him, just left them there feeling the warmth and strength under his skin.

He hadn't let go of her either, though. She wondered what was going through his head. What the hell they were _both _thinking...

"Joss, can I ask you for one more favor?"

Why the hell were they still wrapped around each other? She couldn't think straight with him this close.

"Um, sure..."

"Can I crash on your couch tonight? I can't sleep here. Not until I get someone in to take care of the infestation. I'll be gone before you wake up."

_NoNoNoNoNoNo..._

"Sure, of course, why not?"

He ran his hands once up and then down her spine and stepped back. "Thank you."

_Oh, this was such a baaaaad idea. And she really needed to get out of here._

"You're welcome. Um..." she pointed to the door over her shoulder. "...I'm going to go. You know where the key is if you're late. I'll leave some blankets and a pillow out for you."

She turned then, making a beeline for the door.

"Joss."

She stopped and gritted her teeth, turning. "Yeah." The man really needed to get dressed. Or let her leave. Now.

"Thank you...for..." He waved his hand back toward the couch and floor. "Don't think it did much for my reputation, but I appreciate it."

She gave him a small smile and made a zipper motion over her lips. "Your secret is safe with me, you know that."

He nodded. "I do. See you tonight."

As the door closed behind her, Reese let out a breath and ran his hand over his mouth, his smile never wavering.

**End**


	8. The Ring

A/N: Ever have a line to a fic pop into your head and just not go away? Yeah, so that's what happened here. I own nothing. Sadly.

* * *

><p>She still wore the ring.<p>

Every so often she'd catch the sparkle of it out of the corner of her eye and her heart would clench.

They still didn't know whether to mourn or hope, but it had been almost two years since he'd disappeared.

No word.

No clues.

No body.

The ring had been a symbol. Of a deep friendship. Of trust. Of a love that hadn't quite been acknowledged but begged to be.

He'd given it to her for her birthday. A cluster of aquamarine, her birthstone, surrounding a garnet...her son's.

It had taken her breath when she'd seen it and left questions in its wake. He'd only said that when he'd seen it, he'd thought of her.

She had cherished it from the start. Almost as much as she cherished the memory of the look he'd given her, one full of future promises and desire, when he slipped it on her finger.

Or the kiss he'd pressed to her knuckles afterwards.

It had been the last time she'd seen him.

She still wore the ring.

It was a symbol of her hope.

Of her love.


End file.
